


Avalon

by DragonGirl87



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Lives (Merlin), Author Is in Denial, Drabble, Fluff, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Post-Battle of Camlann, Post-Season/Series 05, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 02:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20771315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87
Summary: Post-Battle of Camlann everything has changed, yet sometimes it feels like nothing's changed at all.





	Avalon

**Author's Note:**

> I have about four or five unfinished WIPs for this fandom on my computer. I started them some nine years ago and haven't looked at them since. They suck and I refuse to look at them but I also won't delete them, I never do. Back then I knew nothing about writing. I still don't. I've just become better at pretending that I do. ***grin***
> 
> I should be brainstorming and writing for my Harry Potter Writober Challenge, not distract myself with nonsense fluffy drabbles for other fandoms. But today wasn't a good day and I wanted to cheer myself up a bit.
> 
> Love,  
Selly x

* * *

* * *

Merlin relaxed back against an old tree trunk and stretched his legs, flexing his toes in his shoes. The lake in front of him was calm, and it was quiet all around. Birds twittered high up in the trees above him, and nearby a young deer approached the water’s edge and lowered its head to drink.

In an attempt to get more comfortable, Merlin shuffled slightly and crossed his legs at the ankles. The deer turned his head, held his gaze for several seconds, seemingly decided that he posed no threat and resumed lapping up the lake’s freshwater.

Merlin smiled softly, then wistfully stared out over the lake. In its centre, shrouded by a cloud of magical, eerie-looking mist lay the mystical Isle of Avalon.

From afar there was nothing remarkable about it. Well, the people spoke of legends that hailed the island’s magical healing powers, but even if there was any truth to those myths, the outlines of the temple’s ruins certainly didn’t give anything away.

Given the fact that Merlin had magic, that the powers of the old religion flowed through his veins with the same enthusiasm as his blood did, he knew that the tales were true. A decade ago, he had travelled here with Arthur to beseech the Sidhe to save Camelot’s true king from the deadly injury of Mordred’s sword.

Merlin resolutely pushed the memory of the Battle of Camlann into the furthest, darkest corner of his mind. He didn’t like thinking about it. When one considered all the journeys he and Arthur had taken over the years, this was his least favourite one to remember.

Turning his head slightly, Merlin glanced at Guinevere, who sat in the centre of a large blanket, surrounded by soft pillows, they’d brought along from the palace. She was busy teaching Gyneth how to make a head wreath out of reed and wildflowers. Merlin watched both of them for a while, and when Guinevere looked up, she held his gaze for a few seconds, smiled, then turned her attention back to trying to control her daughter’s nimble fingers.

Merlin chuckled under his breath.

There was no controlling Gyneth; she had a mind of her own. Much like her brother Amr, she was a real wild child, and Merlin didn’t think her patience would last for much longer. He could see the way her eyes darted about the clearing. The girl’s thoughts were already drifting, and she would be up and about in no time. In all likelihood, she would demand to be allowed to use her brother’s crossbow to practise her hunting skills.

Merlin wasn’t a seer per se, but one didn’t need to be able to foretell the future to know how this afternoon’s picnic would end. The most likely outcome would be Amr lecturing his younger sister and reminding her that she was a lady and that hunting was a man’s job.

In return, Gyneth would get upset and either punch her brother or insult him with a series of colourful and abusive remarks. There was truly no doubt about the fact that those two children were brother and sister and although Guinevere tried her best to tame them, she often threw up her hands in exasperation and turned to Merlin for help.

“Hey.”

The softly spoken word instinctively drew all of Merlin’s attention away from the children and turning his head, he glanced up.

Arthur gave him a lopsided grin.

He crouched down in the grass beside him and shuffling; Merlin silently offered to share the tree trunk with him.

Arthur leant back against it, and their shoulders brushed together.

Merlin turned his head, and for a moment, they both stared at each other, then both turned their heads to stare out over the lake.

“Happy Anniversary.”

Arthur’s voice was low.

It was more of a whisper and a shudder of excitement down Merlin’s spine.

He hummed in response and let a few seconds of comfortable silence pass between them.

“Happy Anniversary.”

After the words had left his mouth, he felt Arthur shift slightly, and a moment later, Arthur’s bare hand came to rest on his thigh, a few inches above his knee.

For a few seconds, Merlin felt tempted to place his own on top, but he resisted the urge.

“Thank you for coming here with me. I know you don’t particularly like returning to this place.”

Merlin huffed out a breath of air.

“Your royal highness, I am but your humble servant.”

Arthur laughed.

“Fool. You and I both know that you are so much more. You always have been.”

Merlin smiled.

He didn’t say anything but shifted an inch or so closer to Arthur and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he whispered.

“Thanks to you,” Arthur replied.

There was softness to his voice that Merlin didn’t get to hear very often. He closed his eyes and revelled in, cherishing every note of the apparent affection Arthur had injected into his words. Times like this were just as rare. There weren’t many opportunities for these precious little moments and Merlin treasured every single one. He always had, and nothing would ever change about that.

* * *

* * *


End file.
